


The Secretary and The Spy

by a3rie



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Friendship, Fun with Tropes, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a3rie/pseuds/a3rie
Summary: Gift for a friend in which Dmitri gets a far kinder ending.





	The Secretary and The Spy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashtrove (editoress)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/editoress/gifts).



One of the many advantages to being a fast typist was that Elizabeth always finished with her work early. Sure, the night would be sprinkled with various additions that kept to no set schedule- such was life in a government lab- but no task ever took too long. Which left her with plenty of down time to work on her own pursuits and still look productive. Strickland himself had walked by her desk on more than one occasion to comment on her dedicated industry and she would nod with a tight-lipped smile while internally laughing maniacally at how easy the ass was to fool (the new head of security was not a popular man.)

In another week or two the draft of her second novel would be ready for the next step of the writing process and it was all thanks to the surplus time and paper of her workplace. While the lack of supervision had at first struck her as odd, she wasn't the sort to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or, as the case might be, a gift giant fish- if the rumors were to be believed.

She wasn't quite sure what to make of said rumors but she did concede that it had to be something extraordinary for the piles of nondisclosure agreements she was buried under in order to take this job. But, whatever it was, she was grateful to it and the constant air of distraction that it gave to her bosses.

Absently chewing the inside of her cheek, her eyes drifted slightly towards the ceiling as her attention wandered. She was almost finished with the current chapter in front of her but the wording was giving her pause. Typically she came in with half her work already outlined with it only needing to be transcribed but she had ventured off script this evening and was more prone to distractions.

She would have never known there was someone reading over her shoulder had they not chosen to offer their two cents.

"How about 'iridescent' as a suitable adjective?"

Elizabeth jumped and guiltily hunched forward to try and cover her novel, "Um, I can explain."

The man standing behind her chair gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. He adjusted his glasses further up his nose with an easy smile and a wink, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He held up a manila folder, "I was told to give this to you?"

"Uh, yes. Thanks." She narrowed her eyes as she took the offered file and set it into her inbox. "Hoffman, right?" she asked before he could move to walk away.

"Hoffstetler, actually, but you may call me Robert, if you like" he answered, his smile taking on a more rueful tilt.

She smiled back up at him, warming to him quickly. She offered him her hand to shake, "Elizabeth."

"The pleasure is all mine." He looked back over her shoulder, "That actually is very good. So, you are a writer?"

"Currently unpublished, but technically yes," she said while the barest of blushes started to warm her cheeks.

"When you become a best-seller you will have to autograph my copy."

She laughed and gave him a subtle once-over. She'd seen Dr. Hoffstetler around, of course, but now that he was directly interacting with her she was beginning to get a better idea of who he was. And so far she liked what she was seeing. He had a boyish grin that she felt did not belong in this underground bunker.

"Well, I must be off. It was nice meeting you. I'll leave you to your _work_ ," he said with a knowing chuckle. As he stepped around her desk his lab coat snagged the corner of the wire basket that worked as her inbox and sent it clattering to the floor.

" _Chert,_ " he muttered under his breath as he quickly moved to pick it up. Elizabeth was beside him in a flash, helping to scoop up the contents of the folder he had given her.

"What?" She asked as they sorted the papers back into some semblance of order.

"I said shit," he answered quickly. He grimaced, "Sorry."

"It's alright. No harm done." She went to smile reassuringly but he actually looked distressed at the slip. "Hey, it's fine. This isn't the 40s, you can swear in front of women now!"

His smile returned at her teasing, though it remained strained around the edges, "Still, sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she insisted with a playful pat on his arm as they both stood back up. Several others in the office space where looking at them now. He blushed as he nodded to her and made to leave.

She waved as she reclaimed her seat, "I'll see you around sometime!"

At her comment he managed a real smile again and took his leave.

As Elizabeth moved aside her creative writing and set to her actual work she thought back over the exchange. He struck her as a polite and soft spoken man, something entirely incongruous with the vast majority of the staff here. She would try and talk with him again. Especially because she could have sworn she didn't hear him say "shit."

ooOoo

It took some asking around, but she'd managed to finally get an idea of when Dr. Hoffstetler took his lunch breaks. Thankfully, it did seem as though he kept to a fairly regular routine. She debated trying for casual as she waited outside his lab but when the door finally opened she decided not to beat around the bush.

"Hello again, would you like to sit together for lunch?"

The pinched look of stress marking his features melted into confusion when he saw her. Then her question registered and he forced a smile, "That would be lovely."

"Are you sure? You seem tense. I can leave if you'd rather-"

"No, nothing like that. It's just been a long night," he assured her. He dipped his head and with the hand that held his lunch tin, he gestured down the hall, "Lead the way."

Emboldened, Elizabeth spun on her heels and navigated down the echoing corridors until she found her favorite spot to take breaks. The hall was unremarkable and looked much the same as all the others. The only door in the short alcove led to a storage closet and there always seemed to be upwards of three or four plywood crates sitting in it that made for an approximation of a table and chairs. It was a comfortable enough space to have a quiet moment to oneself.

"Welcome to the best hallway on base," she announced with a flourish.

"The best?"

"You sound skeptical, Bobby. Yes, it is the best. Low traffic, little to no awful smells, quiet, and plenty of nice boxes. High quality traits for both breaks and lunch!"

He lifted a brow at her informality but found he didn't mind the liberty. Her cheerfulness was infectious and while he generally didn't care much for his assumed name, "Bobby" was better than Bob or Robert.

He sat down on one of the lower crates and noticed a thermos already sitting on the higher one of them. She took her seat on other side of the taller crate, leaving it between the two of them as a table might be. Onto it she placed her brown paper bag and a sandwich along with two apples joined the thermos. He followed her lead and spread out his own lunch on the middle crate and raised his sandwich to her in a mock solute.

She returned the gesture then took a large bite that revealed her main course to be peanut butter. "Been a rough evening?" She asked after she'd managed to swallow.

"Something like that," he admitted with a tired sigh. He sat his sandwich aside and unwrapped a small aluminum foil bundle.

"Well that stinks. Oh! Pickles are the best!"

The man looked down at what had caught her attention so swiftly. Then he held a wedge aloft, "Would you like one? I made them myself. Old family recipe."

Elizabeth looked torn as she glanced between her sandwich and the offered pickle. That would be one hell of an unfortunate flavor combination. But the words "old family recipe" were far too tempting to pass up. She took a swig of her drink and sloshed it around, hoping to cleanse her palate well enough.

"Thanks!" She took an enthusiastic bite and moaned appreciatively. "Wow. You want an apple? I brought two but I'm not going to eat them both. Make a proper trade off."

He shook himself out of his stupor and then nodded. He hadn't been expecting that sort of reaction out of her. He gave a dimpled half smile before accepting the offered fruit.

"Why would you bring two apples if you didn't plan on eating both?"

"To offer one to you, if you'd said yes to lunch," she answered without any hesitation.

He was taken aback by her candid response and he felt his cheeks warm. She was flirting with him. And doing a fine job of it, given her limited resources. Lunch in a semi-private area, sharing food, asking after his night.

His smile spread further.

"Thank you."

She nodded then shimmied farther back in her seat to lean against the wall, "You're welcome!"

They ate in silence for a bit, stealing glances between bites, and it was only somewhat awkward rather than oppressively so. She had an easy sort of aura about her that set him at ease.

"You're right, this is a nice hallway."

She laughed and answered, "I'm pleased you agree! You're free to join me here whenever you'd like."

"I may take you up on that."

ooOoo

In the days that followed it became a tradition between them. Every night he would take his lunch at roughly the same time and find her waiting for him in what he'd taken to thinking of as her hallway. Some nights there were more or fewer boxes than others but the company was always as pleasant.

The stilted awkwardness of their first night hadn't lasted. Though he was bound by secrets, he found himself trading stories with Elizabeth in an easy manner that never left them wanting for conversation.

They talked about their family, traded gossip about their coworkers, and talked about history and literature. He was both surprised and pleased to learn how much they had in common. The lunch hour never seemed long enough.

He never spoke about his work and she knew better than to ask. Yet, as the weeks went on, he seemed to be growing more anxious. Noticeable bags were forming under his eyes and he was more prone to lapsing into thoughtful silence. It worried her and so she set out to try and make him smile at any opportunity. One night this involved homemade cookies.

"These are delicious!"

"Why thank you," she crooned as she helped herself to another one. "I made them special with you in mind."

The confession left him momentarily speechless. He paused halfway in the act of reaching for another and instead took her hand, bringing the back of it to his face in a swift brush of lips. She couldn't know what that small act of kindness did for his eroding faith in humanity.

"Thank you," he whispered softly. He met her eyes and hoped she could see the earnest affection there. He needed her to know how much he had come to look forward to these breaks. How much their friendship was keeping him going in face of the mounting pressure he felt from both Strickland and his secret associates.

She looked at their hands for a moment and then squeezed his fingers lightly.

"I think we should kiss now," she said and leaned forward a fraction in invitation.

He gave a small chuckle, surprised by her blunt delivery and yet somehow not, before closing the distance between them.

With a gentle pressure, his mouth met hers. His lips were slightly chapped from long nights and not enough water but she could hardly pay it any mind when his fingers threaded below the braid that held back her dark blond hair. He pet the loose strands at the nap of her neck and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Oh," she whispered softly, her face still nearly touching his after the kiss ended.

"Oh," he answered with a dopey grin as he pulled back and readjusted his glasses further back up his nose. "May I take you to dinner? Or lunch? A proper date, I mean. Not that your hallway isn't nice but it would be my treat to take you out."

She laughed, her cheeks feeling like they might split her face apart if she didn't stop grinning.

"That would be lovely."

ooOoo

As fate would have it, they did not have time for a proper date before everything went to hell.

Elizabeth had known something was wrong, she could sense it like the precursor to sickness. A heaviness sat in her gut when one evening Dr. Hoffstetler missed their usual lunch break. It wouldn't have bothered her had he not been so obviously upset earlier that evening. She had watched helplessly as he followed after Strickland, fussing and pleading about a project, before leaving in a sullen and frustrated state.

She had hoped to ask him about it but she hadn't seen him again that night.

She called his home first thing the next morning but hadn't gotten an answer. Her feeling of dread doubled.

When she clocked in for work the next night she passed him in the hall on her way to her desk. He seemed distracted and tired but had offered her a small, sad smile when she'd caught his eye. Surrounded by other people and walking in opposite directions, they didn't have time for words but she resolved to try and catch him alone, later.

Her plans fell through as later brought a detour into chaos and panic.

When the lights went out Elizabeth had shot up straight in her seat. A few of the other women in the room gasped and grumbled but she could hear loud and furious cursing above the office clamor. Her first and only thought was to find Robert. He was over the project. The project that had everyone tense and angry and when she thought she heard Strickland's voice saying something about The Asset she was out of her seat and fumbling towards the door before she could think better of it.

The generator lights kicked on but the alarms both around her and from a place of fear deep inside pushed her forward. She dodged officers and maintenance staff alike who all looked just as confused as her. She didn't want to stop and ask questions. She needed to make sure her friend was safe.

The lab was empty. Or, more to the point, it was empty of Robert. Several MPs were already there and whatever she may have understood of their fussing was lost on her as all she could focus on was figuring out what had become Dr. Hoffstetler.

As she ran down the corridor she heard more voices up ahead. Lacking any other destination in mind, she followed them. Had she been paying more attention to the direction she was going rather than focusing on just getting there, arriving at the loading bay would have come as less of a surprise. Intuition or just dumb luck, she found Robert. She spared a moment to look at the limp body on the ground and then closed the distance between them.

"Are- are you okay?" She was winded but no worse for wear.

He looked ready to fight when he spun around to face her but he caught himself in time as he realized who had found him. Before he could answer gunshots were echoing loudly within the hanger, nearly deafening in their rapid succession. Tires were squealing and the next thing she knew Robert was pulling her away from the sounds of conflict.

"We have to _move!"_ A new voice said right by her ear and Elizabeth turned to see one of the cleaning staff making a bee-line towards the door she just exited a few seconds prior. Her confusion mounted but she allowed herself to be herded by the other two and back into the base.

"Lord, please let them stay safe," the woman muttered as they hurriedly shuffled down the corridor. Zelda, Elizabeth remembered. The compound was large but most everyone knew everyone else after months of close quarters.

"Who? What happened?"

"A friend of yours?" Zelda asked breathlessly as they put distance between themselves and the hanger.

"Yes."

"What's going on?"

"I'll explain later."

"You two go on, it won't due for us to be spotted together," Zelda said, glancing over her shoulder nervously. Before she moved to go down a different hall she reached over to pat Hoffstetler on the shoulder, "I don't fully know what's going on or what all might happen from here, but you're good people to help like you did. You keep mine and Elisa's name out of all this and we'll do the same for you."

He gave her a crisp nod and then pulled Elizabeth down another hall. She realized where they were and shook her arm out of his grip in order to grab his hand and change their direction. She might not have had any details but she caught the gist. Something had happened which required secrecy and a cover. She could provide that.

Voices were raised up ahead suggesting a crowd and she dragged him towards the source. He slowed his pace briefly but she squeezed his fingers in reassurance and continued on.

She slipped them into the cafeteria where at least twenty other staff members were standing around in uncertain confusion. No evacuation had been issued, the MPs were missing in action, and the regular folks were left to wonder what it was they were suppose to do. They blended in seamlessly.

"I expect the full story later," she told him pointedly.

He nodded rapidly even as he got his breathing back under control. He darted forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek in gratitude, "Of course. Later. Thank you."

"Any idea what's going on?" Elizabeth asked a woman at the closest table.

The woman, Michelle, looked over at them and shook her head before answering, "Not a damn idea, sugar."

Alibi established, Elizabeth turned back to Robert. He lifted an eyebrow then clued in quickly, "I suppose I should go and try to find out. I can't imagine whatever's behind this will be an easy mess to clean. I'm sure Strickland must be in quite the fit right now."

Michelle nodded sympathetically, "That guy is an ass on a good day, I don't even want to know what he's going to be like after this. You have my sympathy."

The regular lights cut back on and Dr. Hoffstetler squared his shoulders, putting his mask firmly back in place as he took his leave.

Elizabeth watched him go with the inside of her cheek firmly between her teeth and worry churning her stomach. She had done what she could and she would get her answers. Until then, she decided it was time to go back to her desk. There was going to be work to do.

ooOoo

The fact that her shift had ended right as all of the madness ensued did not spare her from the resulting headache. The facility had been on a full lock-down for a full two hours afterwards as the higher ups and security scrambled to figure out what had happened.

Adrenaline alone kept her going as she finally greeted the dawn. Her usual routine of going straight home was put on hold as she dug a scrap of paper from her purse. Using her hard earned skills of multitasking along with the confusion of The Incident, she had searched the employee records and obtained Dr. Hoffstetler's home address. Anyone who might have minded such an act had not been paying her the slightest bit of attention at the time.

After parting ways in the cafeteria she hadn't seen Robert again for the rest of her time on base. He could still be in there holed up in meetings and debriefings for all that she knew, but she couldn't wait another full day to talk to him.

She had only been asked in passing a few times if she had known what happened and it had been all too easy to play clueless. Given that it wasn't too far from the truth she didn't feel even the slightest bit guilty. That didn't mean she intended to stay in the dark for long. If Robert wasn't home yet she was fully prepared to wait him out.

She took the bus uptown and then a short walk put her in front of an inoffensive apartment complex. She looked up to the row of windows that she knew to be his floor but all the blinds were drawn. With a shrug she made her way inside, no one paying her a second glance.

She knocked on his door and was pleased to hear movement inside even though she had not expected it. So he had made it out before her. Still, almost half a minute elapsed before the door opened. His eyes widened to see her, the lack of sleep ringing his normally expressive dark irises in red.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find you on my doorstep."

She smiled, feeling just as tired as he looked. With a small shrug she said, "It's later."

He leaned forward to look behind her and did a quick glance around the rest of the small hallway, "You weren't followed?"

She hadn't thought to even look. "I don't think so?"

He frowned at the uncertainty but ushered her inside, anyway. He had promised to explain and she had proven herself a friend these past weeks, going so far as to provide him a cover. If he couldn't trust her then he would curse the whole of the world for liars.

"I've just put some raisin bread in the oven if you haven't had breakfast yet," he offered once she was seated at his small table. It did not escape his notice how she pointedly took in his living space. No mementos, next to nothing by way of furniture.

He took a fortifying breath as he resolved to admit that truth, too. He was not looking forward to this conversation.

"It smells delicious already," Elizabeth answered diplomatically. Her stomach growled treacherously and she tactfully did not voice any concern over his spartan decor. All answers in good time.

ooOoo

She was in his bed.

He had offered it to her and therefore should not have been experiencing an existential crisis over it. But there he was, standing by his window and worrying the collar of his shirt between his fingers as he looked at her sleeping form.

The power had gone off that morning at exactly five and the rush of the escape had been a breathless six minutes. It was now going on ten and he could feel it in his bones. After having worked full shifts before that, the both of them had been running on fumes. He couldn't find it in him to send her off to make her own way home across town as tired as she was. So he had offered his bed.

He might not have felt the same had his confessions not been well received. Despite his fears they were still friends. The word poked at him and pulled at parts of his brain that he had long thought banished. _Friend_ already had too much weight to it but there was a tantalizing _more than_ hidden in the spaces between words. Attachments were not a luxury he could entertain. Or at least they hadn't been.

Things were moving swiftly now and he valiantly worked to swim against the current.

" _Then let's leave! You've already had one false name, we'll get you a new one."_

If he left now his involvement would be obvious. If she left with him that would pull her further into this quagmire and he wanted desperately to keep her out of it. The more involved the higher the risks and in this business the stakes were torture and death.

But, oh, the temptation was there. When she had first called him by his given name his chest had swelled. It was so good not to be Robert. He hadn't minded "Bobby" but to have "Dmitri" on her lips set a tingle down his back that he knew to be dangerous.

His thoughts scattered as she rolled over with a sigh. Though he tried he could not order them back into any semblance of coherence. He was too tired. It was now that he truly regretted not having any other furniture in the house. He looked down at the barren hardwood floor then back to Elizabeth who took up only half the narrow bed and didn't seem to mind the cheap mattress and threadbare blanket.

The life of a pauper fit the life of a spy but it offered piss poor arrangements for company.

He bit back a yawn with partial success then looked down at his watch. Fifteen minutes he had wasted already. He'd played back their conversation a dozen times over and still hadn't come to terms with how it had left him feeling. They were still friends, she would keep his secrets, and she was asleep in his bed.

His brow wrinkled and he rubbed his temples, cursing himself and the universe at large.

To hell with it. He couldn't think clearly anymore without either sleep or coffee and the obvious choice of the two was a single meter away.

He made his way around the other side of the bed and cringed at the awful squeal of the metal frame as it adjusted under his added weight. Elizabeth didn't wake up so he carefully scooted down until he was passably comfortable and let out a soft breath of relief when his head hit the pillow.

Just before he fell asleep, Elizabeth rolled over and snuggled against his side. She hadn't woken and he shivered as her sigh brushed over his ear. As he lost the battle to consciousness he tried to remember what it was that was supposed to be so bad about attachments.

ooOoo

The next few days sped by in a blur.

Dmitri looked down at the half packed suitcase on his bed and ran a hand over his hair. The unexpected visit earlier that week from his colleges still had him on edge. He knew they suspected something was off. They were not the only ones. Strickland had been dancing around the edges of a confrontation but so far nothing had come of it.

He would liken it to a round of chess except he suspected the hot-headed buffoon wouldn't even know the rules of the game. On the other hand, he fancied himself quite the accomplished player. Most of his pieces were still on the board for now. But that didn't mean check couldn't still close in at a moment's notice.

Checkmate never even crossed his mind.

He folded another shirt and set it down on top of the last one. He didn't have much that needed packing and yet the task was taking forever. A reluctance he didn't want to name slowed his movements and he made an extra fuss to press the wrinkles from every article of clothing before moving to the next.

The phone call still echoed in his ears. He was already twenty-four hours deep into the forty-eight hour deadline. Abandoning a cover had never been this hard before. It wasn't a lack of will. He was anxious to go, ready to cut ties and start fresh. But the terms chaffed. He heard her offer again.

Elizabeth.

He'd been trying to put distance between them in the days following his confessions, both for her safety and selfishly so that this step wouldn't hurt. He had known from the beginning that what had been growing between them couldn't last. She was a friend and a passing dream. He would cherish their conversations and the quiet moments stolen in her company but he knew where the lines needed to be drawn. Obligations bound him, lies chased him, and danger was swiftly closing in on both fronts.

" _You know what? I'd almost forgotten, but on the day we first met, I could have sworn you didn't say "shit" and I thought it was odd. Aside from your smile and agreeing not to tattle about my novel writing, that's one of the main reasons I wanted to get to know you better. I was curious. I find it hilarious that I was right."_

She was a captivating woman. Her wit never left a dull moment and he was going to miss her more than he wanted to admit. But the creature would be out of danger soon and this chapter of his life was coming to a close. He had an extraction date and his mission had officially been aborted.

ooOoo

Of course it was still raining. The weather matched his mood. His already sparsely furnished apartment now felt truly empty. There was a finality to the barrenness that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Extraction was in two hours.

"Holy-!" He clutched his chest and dropped his suitcase. He had not been expecting Elizabeth to be standing on the other side of his door. She was soaking wet and her hand was raised, having been seconds away from knocking when he'd opened it.

She looked apologetic until she saw the twin cases on the ground. Her voice was thick with hurt when she asked, "You're leaving?"

"I have to," he said with a helpless shrug.

"I agree." At his look of surprise she nodded her head towards the window and continued, "I'm certain Strickland knows. He's sitting outside in a car right now. Normally, I wouldn't have noticed anything like that except I've been paranoid since the day you helped bust the Asset out. I've been suspicious of everything and everyone since then but I'm not going to complain as it's paying off now."

His apartment was being watched. He should have known.

"So come with me instead. You don't _actually_ have to do anything. I'm a wild card! There are less than three people who even know that we know each other. Let me help."

He frowned and fidgeted with the lapel of his jacket. The clock was ticking and he was having trouble remembering why he had told her no the first time. "It is too dangerous. I cannot pull you into the crossfire."

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I'm already involved. You're my friend, I care about you too much to just let you run off into the night with no way of knowing if you've even got a plan or not. If your cover here is over, why not cut all ties and make a run for it while there's still time?"

"You only know enough to incriminate me but not enough to be at risk yourself. If you helped me, you would be an active agent and others would treat you accordingly."

"You and I both know that's bull. Knowledge is enough of a threat. I wouldn't be any more damned if the wrong people were to know I knew anything than if I outright helped. So let me."

He was on the edge of giving in and she knew it. She took a step closer, "Please."

He shook his head, "You are young and you can't throw your whole life away for just a friend. It could never have worked between us. What we had… it was a distraction. A beautiful distraction but I am twenty years older than you and come with too many-"

His words cut off as Elizabeth closed the distance between them and pressed her lips firmly against his. The initial impact was too rough to be properly called a kiss but as a means of shutting him up it worked just fine. She gentled as soon as she felt him give in and kiss her back. He pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around his neck, asking him to reconsider with every press of her mouth to his.

Whatever train of thought Dmitri had held previously was gone the instant she gave a small groan; the wood of his door frame bit into her back as she was pushed against it. He moved back to let her escape the awkward angle then moved to kiss her soundly again the moment she was in the apartment fully. They lost a full minute to a quite, desperate movement of lips and fingers gliding through hair.

When they broke apart again for air Elizabeth fixed him with a glare that brooked no argument. "Come with me. We'll leave out the back of the building."

There wasn't an argument left and Dmitri picked up his suitcases and motioned for her to lead the way. She grinned triumphantly, leaning forward to kiss him quickly once more for luck before grabbing one of his suitcases and pulling him along behind her. He managed to close the door after them as he focused on keeping up with her determined strides.

They were already on the bottom floor when his phone rang. Neither heard the shrill chiming of its bells but in the end it would not matter that he had not answered.

*~*Epilogue*~*

 _Tous les Garçons et les Filles_ drifted over on a borrowed record player as Elizabeth opened the door to the balcony and breathed in the evening air. She sighed in contentment as she watched the fireflies twinkle in the distance.

They were currently Margret and Grant Goodman (they learned after the first time that people paid them less attention when they gave the same surname.) The trip down the east coast had passed in record time and then they moved inland. She had family in Georgia and had assured him that they could use her connections there without fear of betrayal. A small bit of forgery and another skip across cities and whatever tail either might have had trickled to nothing.

A life on the run wasn't ideal but Elizabeth believed it to be temporary. Even if it proved otherwise, she would still count it worth it. The more time elapsed and distance between them and Baltimore and they would eventually be written off entirely.

Françoise Hardy continued to croon on in the background and Elizabeth smiled as she felt arms circle her waist and a warmth press against her back. She spun around in his embrace and smiled as Dmitri leaned forward for a kiss.

"Dance with me?" She asked playfully.

"This song is too depressing for dancing. Have you ever listened to the lyrics?"

"I don't speak French. Dance with me anyway, it has a nice rhythm."

He chuckled but consented as he guided her hands into place and began to lead them in a simple box-step. He twirled her and she laughed. Even though she was as tall as him, he managed the move with grace.

" _Comme les garçons et les filles de mon âge/ Connaîtrais-je bientôt ce qu'est l'amour? /Comme les garçons et les filles de mon âge /Je me demande quand viendra le jour…"_

"Do you ever regret listening to me?" She asked when the needle reached the end of the disk and the music faded.

"No. I don't know what may have awaited me but I would not trade this, not now."

"Good."

His smile was teasing, "Do you have regrets?"

"Not many," she answered easily as she twirled once more. They had continued slow dancing even after the song ended.

"Not many, as in some?"

She smiled at his look of concern as he brought them to a halt. "I did pack in a hurry. I left my favorite blouse behind, you know." His shoulders sagged in relief and she leaned in to press a kiss on his nose before adding, "I do wish we could have gotten some closure, though. How things turned out for Zelda, Elisa, and Charlie."

"Charlie?"

"Well I wasn't going to keep calling him Asset."

He laughed and nodded in understanding, "For them to be the reason we are here in the first place it does seem unfair that we don't know their fates."

"We'll give it a year or two then have someone mail a letter. See what happens. One of them might actually write us back."

"Seems like a needless risk."

"We'll be careful. I think I'm getting the hang of all this spy stuff. Living under cover isn't so bad."

"This is a special exception. It is usually much more stressful and much more lonely."

She hummed in acknowledgment before slipping out of his arms. The sun had set fully and she flipped on the bedside lamp before going over to the turntable. She bent to dig through a box on the floor and then swapped Françoise Hardy out for a different record.

" _Moon river wider than a mile/ I'm crossin' you in style someday/ Old dream maker, you heartbreaker/ Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way..."_

She made her way back over to the balcony with Frank Sinatra's mellow voice now floating through the night. She coaxed him back into a slow dance, slower now than the first.

She rested her head against his shoulder and he leaned into her weight.

"As far as actual regrets go? I can't think of a one."

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope it was an enjoyable read :)


End file.
